


wilson

by benzaaldehyde



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Shamelessly self-indulgent, Smut, Thunderstorms, and kageyama is here for it, hinata is thicc, oh there's fluff too!, sorry mom, uhhh that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benzaaldehyde/pseuds/benzaaldehyde
Summary: In a pinch, Shouyou wears leggings to practice.Why is Kageyama being so weird all of a sudden?
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 32
Kudos: 563
Collections: loveydoveys





	wilson

**Author's Note:**

> i have very specific interests, and they all include hinata in spandex and big dick kags.
> 
> i had an intense vision of thicc ass hinata in royal purple leggings a bit ago while listening to a song called Wilson by fall out boy, and now this exists.
> 
> for the sake of this fic, we are going to pretend shouyou and natsu are close in age, maybe only 1-2 years apart. 
> 
> i think that’s it! i hope you enjoy!!!

Shit.

Shit shit _shit._

Every Monday, they were always _here,_ where the hell did they go? Shouyou dug through the ever-present overflowing basket of clothes that sat in the corner of his room. He tore through it, flinging t-shirts and socks behind him, searching for those sneaky little bastards.

Where were his practice shorts? He has lots of these shorts, what the fuck? Okay, okay, back up. He came home from practice camp Saturday. For practice camp, he packed his shorts, yes, Shouyou knew that. When he arrived home, he dumped his bags on the floor, and in a half-asleep daze, he…

Shit.

He forgot to do his laundry.

Shouyou leapt over the clothing that was now strewn across his bedroom and tore his way to the front door, finding his gym bags still there. He opened the one he knew contained his practice clothing, gave a tentative sniff, and _Jesus Christ._

Shouyou was no stranger to wearing less-than-clean clothes to school or practice, but these were _lethal._ Hell, they were still soaked with sweat from camp.

Shit shit shit.

Practice was in twenty-five minutes—if he counted his ride to school, he was already late. He had to think fast.

And that was how Shouyou found himself thirty minutes later, parking his bike in his usual spot, overly aware of the black leggings he stole from Natsu that were currently suffocating his thighs. He felt so _very_ exposed, holding his bag in front of his crotch as soon as he dismounted his bike to mitigate any unsightly lumps and bumps.

He dashed to the club room, depositing his school bag and discreetly picking the leggings from where they crawled up his ass. Shouyou, in all his wisdom, deliberated this morning and ultimately decided that wearing underwear would only make the lines in his leggings even _more obvious_ so he… well, he didn’t. Wear underwear, that is.

He was beginning to regret that decision.

Shouyou inspected himself in the mirror mounted on the wall in the club room. He had always been a little self-conscious of his body—he knew his thighs and butt had a little more jiggle to them than other boys his age. It'd never really been a problem before—he had a small frame, and these features were easily disguised by his clothing—but now… well, it wasn't like leggings _hid_ anything.

Fuck, he should have just skipped morning practice! Stayed home, washed his shorts, made it to afternoon practice only. But that train of thought had already occurred to Shouyou as he rifled through Natsu’s collection of leggings that morning, and he abandoned it when he realized that skipping morning practice meant less volleyball in the day.

And that would not be tolerated.

So, Shouyou squared his shoulders, puffed his chest, readjusted his leggings like a _man,_ and dutifully marched down the stairs and into the volleyball gym five—okay, _ten_ minutes late.

He was switching his shoes when Noya called out to him, “Hey Hinata! You made it!”

It looked like everyone had already finished their stretches for the morning, so Shouyou yelled out a greeting to Noya and jogged to an unused corner of the gym to do his warmup. And as he worked the sleep from his muscles, feeling limber and loose, he felt himself start to get comfortable in the spandex. The only snag he hit was during his hamstring stretches. Self-conscious, he kept his butt to the wall behind him as he bent at the waist in a wide stance, laying his palms flat on the floor below him. But that was it! Problem solved.

And as he started to come out of his final stretch, Kageyama made his way over to his corner.

“Dumbass, you’re taking forever. You done yet?”

“Yeesh, calm your tits, yamayama,” Shouyou said to the floor, bending one leg in a lunge, and then the other. Slow and controlled, Shouyou unfurled his body, standing straight up and rolling his shoulders back in one final stretch. Then, he stuck his fists to his hips with all the confidence of a boy who wasn’t wearing spandex and said, “Yeah, I’m done! What are we doing?”

But Kageyama didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked… confused. Perplexed, but in an angry Kageyama way. His mouth a flat line and his brow furrowed. He was staring at Shouyou’s legs like they were a particularly hard math problem. Or any math problem, really.

Shouyou waited a few seconds, becoming more and more confused by Kageyama’s expression as time crawled by. Then, when he still didn’t say anything, Shouyou cleared his throat awkwardly. Kageyama’s eyes snapped up to his face, but his perplexed expression remained.

“What are you wearing?”

“What?!” Shouyou squeaked. Suddenly, Shouyou was awash in embarrassment all over again. How had Shouyou not realized he was looking at his leggings?! The fuck was wrong with him. He felt his face burn and he yanked his white shirt down over his crotch.

“What are those?” Kageyama asked again, pointing at his knees.

“Nothing!” He barked. Then backtracked. “Oh, well not _nothing,_ but it’s not—it’s just—I didn’t do any laundry and I didn’t want to miss morning practice so I stole leggings from Natsu and it’s not a big deal, boys wear these all the time and—“

“Leggings?” Kageyama repeated.

Shouyou stopped babbling and shrugged. “It’s only for today.”

Kageyama, confused as ever, looked like he was about to ask more, but then Ukai yelled at them to join the rest of the team. Shouyou bounced once on his feet, yelled out, “Coming!” and took off, jogging over to his teammates. He threw one last glance at the setter, who was staring after Shouyou, still standing there in the corner of the gym. He watched just in time to see Kageyama’s features, previously contorted in confusion, smooth out abruptly as his eyes followed him—rather his _legs_ —across the gym.

Which was strange, Shouyou thought. But whatever. Against all odds, Shouyou made it to morning practice, and goddammit he was going to _play,_ Kageyama’s weirdness aside. And honestly, when Shouyou got into the groove of practice, he actually found he quite liked the leggings—maybe even more than his usual shorts. They allowed him a full range of motion, but they also offered him support where his loose volleyball shorts did not. Some amount of time into practice, he even stopped being self-conscious about his body. The spandex was black, he reasoned to himself. Black is a slimming color, and surely that made all of his lumps and things invisible?

Shouyou thought so.

And while Shouyou thought changing into his school uniform after practice was going to be tricky, given the whole… _commando_ situation, he ended up just slipping his pants on over his leggings and going about his day like normal. It was a little weird to wear pants under pants, Shouyou thought, so he changed discreetly, without attracting anyone’s attention. But then! Changing for afternoon practice? _Piece of cake._ With how fast it was to change back into his practice clothes, he was the first one out on the court, maximizing his playing time.

Leggings, Shouyou decided, kick ass.

And so, this became the new normal for Shouyou.

For the rest of that week, Shouyou slipped on a pair of Natsu’s leggings each morning—they were a little tight, being his kid sister’s leggings, but they’re supposed to be tight, he thinks—and went on his merry way to practice.

His life seemed mostly unchanged, even though it contained 100% more spandex than it did last week. He was just… happier. More excited to go about his day. He loved the support they offered, he loved the way he had a barrier now between his skin and kneepads, he loved how soft they felt when he touched his thighs, he loved the way they hugged his calves like a second skin. He also saved a bunch of underwear this way.

This was, Shouyou believed, a win-win situation.

And his teammates were largely supportive of this wardrobe change. They complimented him all the time! At least, some of them. Okay, only one of them. Most of them didn’t really comment on it, he supposed, but Suga said he liked his leggings on Tuesday and that was enough for Shouyou.

There was one thing that changed, though. It was subtle, but Kageyama stopped tossing to him during practice. Alright, maybe not that subtle. At least not to Shouyou. For that first day, Kageyama treated him just fine, but after that, he found ways to practice with the rest of the team instead of Shouyou, ignoring his pleas for more (or any) tosses.

On Wednesday morning, Shouyou managed to get him to be his spiking drill buddy. After one particularly strong spike, one where Shouyou could feel his connection with the ball deep down in his _bones,_ Tanaka came up and smacked him playfully on the ass, shouting, “You go, little dude!” to drive his point home.

Unfortunately for Shouyou, ‘playfully’ for Tanaka translated to _extremely fucking hard._ If Shouyou could feel his spike in his bones, he could feel that smack in his _soul._ As Shouyou rubbed his poor, abused booty—it never asked for this—he turned around to shut whatever snarky-ass comment Kageyama most-definitely had down.

Only, Kageyama didn’t seem to have anything to say.

He stared, wide-eyed at Shouyou’s… well, his thighs, he guessed, by the time he turned around. And he was _pink._ Kageyama was… he was _blushing._ And in the split second Shouyou had to take in this fact, Kageyama yanked his eyes up to the gym ceiling, so quickly that Shouyou looked up too, thinking maybe something was up there? But he didn’t see anything noteworthy. And after a couple seconds of Kageyama being weird as shit, Shouyou stepped forward.

“Kageyama?” He asked hesitantly, like he was approaching a wild animal. “Are you… is everything okay?”

Kageyama screwed his mouth to the left, still watching the ceiling, still an absurd shade of pink. And then, without a word, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the gym.

Shouyou didn’t know it at the time, but that Wednesday morning spiking drill practice was the last set of Kageyama’s tosses he would get until who fucking knows how long. Kageyama still met him for lunch at their usual bench on Wednesday, but things were quiet between them. Awkward, even. Kageyama refused to meet his eyes, fidgeting like crazy. At one point, he asked, staring at Shouyou’s thighs, “Is it hard changing out of the leggings after morning practice?”

And while Shouyou was somewhat surprised Kageyama was thinking about the logistics of spandex at that moment, he responded honestly. “Oh, no I just keep them on under my clothes.”

Kageyama froze then, still staring at his thighs, eyes wide. After a couple seconds, Shouyou started to squirm under his gaze, and Kageyama seemed to realize this belatedly because only then did he avert his eyes with a rough gasp that ultimately resulted in him coughing into his arm for thirty seconds.

Kageyama stopped trying to make conversation after that.

During Wednesday afternoon practice, Shouyou would try to catch his eyes, try to mouth “what’s wrong?” in his direction, but before he could do that, color would emerge high on Kageyama’s cheeks _every single time,_ and then he would look away _every single time._

By Thursday, Shouyou sat alone at lunch. 

It didn’t bother Shouyou a ton—he was sort of used to getting by on his own. It just seemed like he was… well, fuck, if Shouyou had to guess, he would think Kageyama was avoiding him. He was afraid that he upset Kageyama somehow. Offended him, maybe? He wasn’t sure.

But he intended to find out.

It was now Friday. The end of the week. Natsu had several pairs of black leggings, but now that Shouyou had worn four days’ worth of spandex without doing even a hint of laundry, he saw Friday morning all that remained were the colorful pairs.

Shouyou pursed his lips at the selection. He really _was_ more comfortable wearing the dark leggings. The darkest pair available now were the purple ones. 

He shrugged, snagging the pair from Natsu’s laundry hamper. This was his life now, after all. They would have to do.

Shouyou ran back to his room to slip them on and _oof_ these ones were tighter than the other pairs. Perhaps not _smaller,_ but the material was thicker, less stretchy. He managed to wrestle them on, but holy shit. While he enjoyed not wearing underwear with his leggings usually, he’s especially glad he forwent them today—they would be lodged _inside_ his asshole by now, what with how tight these things were.

No matter! Volleyball awaits. He was a little early, but Shouyou grabbed his book bag anyway and biked to school as normal. Even if he couldn’t actually get into the gym any earlier, waiting outside of it in the mornings made him feel better anyway. Like he was willing someone to show up earlier and unlock the gym through some hidden telekinetic power he inherited from a spider bite or a lightning bolt or maybe just from his mom—he really didn’t know a lot about his family medical history.

However, when he arrived, he saw the lights in the gym were on. Someone was already here. He sprinted up the stairs, dropped his belongings in the club room, and bolted to the gym.

Kageyama. Of course.

He was in the middle of practicing sets against the wall. Shouyou could see the concentration on his face from where he was standing in the doorway. As he toed off his shoes just outside the gym, he called out tauntingly, “So you’ll set to a wall but not to your spiker?”

Kageyama’s head snapped toward Shouyou, eyes wide and startled at his entry, and that made it especially obvious when his shocked blue eyes flicked down to Shouyou’s legs. Quick. Automatic. A reaction to seeing Shouyou.

And then the volleyball was crushing Kageyama’s fingers.

Kageyama yelped and then clutched one hand in the other, glaring at Shouyou. The fuck? Like it was _his_ fault Kageyama messed up his set?

Don’t answer that.

“Dumbass! Don’t sneak up on me!”

“I-I didn’t mean to!” Shouyou insisted, waving his hands in front of him frantically. He still only had one shoe on.

Kageyama scoffed and then turned, trudging grumpily toward the equipment room. Shouyou slipped on his remaining shoe and followed him there, hopping along as he fixed his shoe every other step.

He found Kageyama reaching up to one of the shelves in the dark room, his back to Shouyou again. Shouyou leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. “So what gives, crappy-yama?”

Kageyama was stretched onto his toes, blindly searching for something. He spoke, voice muffled against the shelving. “What what gives?”

Shouyou cocked his head to the side like a confused pup. “What?”

Kageyama’s fingers knocked against something on the tall shelf, and athletic tape fell onto his chest. “What do you _mean,_ what gives?” He ground out, turning around slow, his perpetual scowl still firmly in place when his eyes met Shouyou’s.

The intense eye contact tripped Shouyou up for a second, but he barreled on.

“Why haven’t you been setting to me?” Shouyou demanded. “Or _talking_ to me?”

Kageyama dropped his eyes then, starting to delicately wrap his fingers. Shouyou watched his hands too, weirdly fascinated by his fingers. They were long and slender, and knowing these fingers help him set a ball like some Volleyball Master made Shouyou’s stomach flip for some reason.

His hands were, like…

Pretty.

Okay, what? No.

“I’ve talked to you,” he mumbled.

Shouyou’s eyebrows drew together, eyes dragging back up to Kageyama’s face. “What?”

Kageyama shrugged one shoulder.

“What, you mean like _ever?”_

He said nothing, eyes down.

“You… are so stupid,” Shouyou said, shaking his head disbelievingly. “I meant like this week. Stupid Kageyama. Why the hell would I ask about—”

Kageyama lifted his scowl to Shouyou. “I’m talking to you _now,_ is what I meant.”

Shouyou threw his palms up. “Dude! I _can see that,_ I meant like—like, yesterday! And Wednesday! You didn’t—you haven’t set to me in _days_ and—”

“There are other people on this team, you know,” Kageyama snapped, dropping his eyes again. “I can’t always only pay attention to you all the time.”

Shouyou’s brows knit together again. “Pay attention to me all the time?”

Where they were working, Kageyama’s fingers froze. In fact, it looked like _all_ of Kageyama froze for a moment. He resumed his task almost immediately, but it was enough of a pause for him to notice it. Shouyou also noticed his fingers were trembling now, looping the tape around his injured fingers.

“What do you mean by that?” Shouyou asked, after a beat of silence.

“Nothing,” he responded quickly. “I—I didn’t mean it like that.”

A smile started to curl Shouyou’s lips. It was audible in his teasing voice. “Are you _sure_ about that, ‘yamayama?” He took a step forward, leering. “I know I’m hot, you don’t have to be—”

“Hinata!” Kageyama barked, his eyes jerking back up to Shouyou’s, his face bright pink. His serious reaction started Shouyou out of his teasing mood, but only for a second. Kageyama looked like he was going to say something else, but then he evidently thought better of it, exhaling sharply through his nose. He bit off the tape and tossed it carelessly onto a shelf, smoothing the tape out on his fingers as he shouldered past Shouyou in the doorway.

“Jeez, someone didn’t sleep well last night,” Shouyou joked, following Kageyama back into the gym.

Kageyama bent to pick up the volleyball he was using earlier with one hand. “Yeah? Keep this up and I really won’t set to you, you little—” He was turning around to face Shouyou, and then he promptly dropped the ball, holding one hand up in front of his face. “Christ! Hinata! What are you wearing?!”

Shouyou looked down at his body, at the purple leggings that were so snug, he was sure they would be _part_ of his body by the end of the day. In the bright light of the gym, he could see that they… were a bit revealing. More revealing, anyway, than he originally thought they were after his initial inspection in the dim light of his bedroom.

He honestly didn’t feel he was dressed _indecently,_ though.

Besides, it was just volleyball practice.

“I’m wearing leggings again,” he said earnestly.

Kageyama sputtered. “Yeah, I _know that._ I mean, why are you—I-I can _see—”_ He cut himself off. Kageyama’s eyes were squeezed shut.

Shouyou moved his shirt out of the way to get a better look at his body. “It’s not that different from the other ones I wore this week,” Shouyou pointed out with a frown. “What’s your deal?”

Kageyama took one deep breath, then another. He opened his eyes and dropped his hand and, for all intents and purposes, stopped being such a baby. His eyes boldly fell onto Shouyou’s legs again.

It was funny, Shouyou could visibly _see_ the heat crawling up Kageyama’s neck. Yet, despite this, he didn’t move his eyes. And Shouyou knew he was the cause of the blush, though he didn’t fully understand why. Just, logically—Kageyama was not pink, then he started— _staring_ at Shouyou’s thighs, and now… well, now he was pink.

Kageyama stare was steadfast. Ultra-focused. The way he gets during a game. It didn’t make Shouyou uncomfortable though, like the other times Shouyou caught him staring. Instead, he felt… good. The attention felt good, like he wanted to bask in it. Wanted to show Kageyama something worth staring at.

Shouyou sorta felt like the gym was hotter than it usually was at seven in the morning. He could feel his face start to warm, but it’s not like Kageyama would notice—he was still staring at his thighs. Or, probably his thighs, it was hard for Shouyou to tell. His hips, perhaps? He knew his hips looked pretty wide in these things.

Then he moved. Slowly, seemingly without thought, Kageyama lifted his jaw, eyelids hooding as he did, and his mouth fell open a little. He let out a breath—heavy and winded, even though all he was doing was standing there. It was more like a pant. But only one. But the _sound_ of it _oh,_ Shouyou felt his entire body twitch in response to that single breath.

Something in Kageyama shifted. Shouyou could feel it. The fucking gym walls could feel it. There was something heady lurking behind Kageyama’s lax expression.

_Fuck._

And Shouyou, _dammit Shouyou,_ he could feel his body start to react. He had never been stared at like that before. Never been in a situation even _close_ to this one before, but his body certainly knew what it wanted. Trapped in his leggings, he felt his dick twitch once against his thigh and _shit, why the fuck didn’t he do laundry this week?!_ Shouyou leapt at the sensation—startled by his own body’s reaction like a gigantic dork—but it jumpstarted him into action. He quickly bent down to retrieve the volleyball near his feet and made sure to hold it subtly in front of his crotch to hide any… unintentional mishaps.

When he looked back to Kageyama two seconds later, he saw he was blinking rapidly, blush furious on his face and neck. Shouyou’s mouth was dry for some reason. He swallowed, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. They stared at each other for several seconds.

“Do…” Shouyou started. He licked his lips. “Do you want to throw me a couple sets?”

Kageyama’s eyes flicked back down to Shouyou’s legs, and he pulled conspicuously at the front of his volleyball shorts, shifting uncomfortably. The King of the Court was _flustered._ Shouyou would marvel at this fact if he himself weren’t fighting back his own blush.

“No,” he grunted, already turning around, stalking toward the gym doors. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

And then he was gone.

And even though Shouyou really _did_ want to spike some of his sets, he was also grateful for the alone time Kageyama’s absence offered him. He was able to calm his body down with some deep breaths and by thinking about Oikawa winning and math tests and anything _but_ the way Kageyama’s eyes hid some emotion Shouyou couldn’t name yet.

By the time the rest of his teammates arrived, Shouyou was right as rain. Kageyama came back a few minutes after his teammates got there. His face was splotchy, and he avoided everyone’s eyes for a few minutes, but he otherwise acted fine.

And he truly did act fine. He wasn’t ignoring Shouyou anymore—he even set to him a few times during practice. And later in the day, they sat together at lunch again.

After afternoon practice, Kageyama and Shouyou were walking home together, like they always did before this week. Even though it was only a few days without it, this renewed contact made Shouyou’s heart feel so full, like he was going to burst with something warm and fuzzy and bright. He had his teammate back at his side.

And it was this feeling that prompted him to ask, “Hey yamayama, are you busy on Sunday?”

“No,” Kageyama responded, eyes straight ahead.

“Ooh, we should practice!” Shouyou exclaimed, using his bicycle handlebars to jump while walking. “You owe me, like, a zillion sets after this week and I want to get caught up. Which, by the way, you never told me why—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, evading Shouyou’s question. He cleared his throat once. “I mean, yeah. That should be fine.”

And Shouyou wanted to respond with something verbal, but that intensely happy feeling came back full force and he felt like he was going to explode or something again. His smile took up his whole face. Kageyama palmed Shouyou’s still-smiling face, pushing it away, muttering _you’re so stupid_ while trying to hide a smile of his own.

And Shouyou knew his grin, along with the fluttery feeling in his chest, would remain long after they parted ways that evening.

≠

Saturday passed for Shouyou in a blur. It was Natsu’s birthday, so they spent the day celebrating. Or, for Natsu it was celebration, for Shouyou it was basically just a generous shopping day. Because of their closeness in age, many of Natsu’s friends were also Shouyou’s, so he stuck with them while they ambled from store to store in the shopping mall, armed with their mom’s money, buying makeup and clothing and other things Shouyou didn’t pay attention to. He was just happy to be around people, to make his sister roll her eyes while he made the girls laugh and giggle and sometimes blush. He liked the attention.

Even though he was already in a good mood, his last interaction with Kageyama left him feeling lighter, happier. It was like a constant thrum in his heart, but each time he thought about him, like _really_ thought about him and not just about the _idea_ of him, he felt that feeling tenfold, and it made his smiles bigger and his laughs louder. It was dumb, but a part of Shouyou wanted to _talk_ about him to the girls, to brag that he knew this really tall, cool guy who is kinda stupid and is really scary sometimes and is also the best volleyball player he has ever seen, but Kageyama still felt like something precious and secret in his heart. So, instead of talking about him, Shouyou held that feeling close, and let it fill his body with helium and expand his ribcage. Gravity did not exist. And knowing he was going to _see_ the damn guy the next day amplified that feeling even _more._ He felt almost psychotic, and he had to deliberately _stop_ thinking about Kageyama several times just to function normally.

He was pathetic. Shouyou didn’t care.

Before they knew, it was birthday dinner time, and seemingly even faster than that, the day was over, and he still hadn’t done Natsu’s laundry, even on _her birthday. God_ he was a shitty brother. He would do laundry tomorrow! She was staying the night at a friend’s house, so yes, he could do it tomorrow without raising suspicion.

As… a birthday gift.

Yeah, he’s a shitty brother.

The next morning, Shouyou threw a load of spandex and volleyball shorts into the wash, like a _not-shitty brother,_ but he still needed pants for the day…

… So he snuck into Natsu’s blessedly empty room to swipe another pair of leggings.

Today, feeling adventurous, he plucked the bright-ass teal pair from his sister’s drawer. It’s Sunday! He could wear this color, he wasn’t at school. And it was just _Kageyama,_ after all.

He wished he could make his antsy body believe that though. After shooting a quick _leaving now!_ text to Kageyama, he hopped on his bike and pedaled away, under a cool, overcast sky. They were meeting at the park near Kageyama’s house, and Shouyou was grateful for the time to burn some of this excess energy away. He felt almost nervous. How dumb was that? Where was that coming from? Was he just… _super excited_ to see Kageyama? Possibly. They _were_ going to be playing volleyball, the absolute best sport in the world, and after eight seconds of considering it, Shouyou decided that was enough reason for the nerves and he stopped thinking about it.

Until he pulled up to the park.

He braked so hard his back tire nearly lifted off the concrete.

Things did not compute for a moment. Just utter shock. Zero thoughts. Error 404. Even a tumbleweed wouldn’t dare disrupt the frozen silence in his mind.

Then his brain kickstarted, and a dizzy spell almost knocked him off his bike.

Shouyou honest-to-god thought he was having a stroke or something. Could he smell toast? That’s a stroke thing right? Maybe it’s a tumor. Could tumors grow in four seconds? It happened to his mom’s car tire once! A bubble suddenly appeared while she was driving, and it stretched the rubber out thin. Brains and tires were, like, the same thing, right? Or, wait, was his arm numb? Shit, was it the left arm or right arm? Which was the heart attack arm?! Shouyou’s gonna die. Shouyou was gonna die. Shouyou was going to die of a stroke-slash-tumor-slash-heart-attack, and it was all because—

“Dumbass, are you coming?”

—Kageyama decided to wear leggings to practice.

He stood, just, _there._ Like he fucking _owned the place,_ all casual and confident and shit with a volleyball stuck under his arm. Like he didn’t just detonate Shouyou’s mind.

With his plain white t-shirt, Kageyama wore navy leggings that clung to his legs like they were sewn onto his body. He could see… well, _everything._ He stared shamelessly, noting that Kageyama must have more muscles than he ever thought he did because now he could fucking _see them, all of them,_ strong and lean in his thighs and calves. Unlike Shouyou’s, Kageyama’s leggings went all the way down his legs, tapering snugly at his ankles. And also unlike Shouyou’s, they appeared to be made _for_ men, given the allotted pouch for the smooth, generous bulge that protruded from between his legs.

Shit, shit. He didn’t mean to notice that. Shouyou wrenched his eyes from the best thing he has ever seen in his life to look at literally anything else. He could already feel the warmth wafting up his face, and unfortunately, the beginnings of an erection plumping his cock.

This was becoming a recurring problem for Shouyou and spandex.

As Shouyou imploded, Kageyama shifted his stance impatiently. “Dumbass,” he barked again. “Let’s go.”

Shouyou, with great reluctance, placed his feet back on the pedals and rode closer to where Kageyama was. He dropped his bike on the ground and, having delayed it for as long as Shouyou felt he possibly could, dragged his eyes back to his teammate.

Whose gaze was presently trailing down his cerulean-clad legs.

Shouyou’s mind seemed to have halted again. Perhaps it never started back up in the first place. His throat was dry. And all he could think to say was, “Nice… pants."

Kageyama’s eyes crawled back up Shouyou’s body, eventually meeting his own. Kageyama’s face was strangely open. Vulnerable. He looked younger, somehow, eyes all big and curious and something else. And when Shouyou’s words registered for him, he looked away abruptly, pink tinging his cheeks. “Yeah,” he coughed, muttering into his shoulder. “Well… I heard you say you liked wearing them, so. I wanted… to try them out.”

“I’m not complaining,” Shouyou breathed, definitely _not_ thinking, and his eyes widened when he realized what he just said. “Uh! I mean—!”

“I like yours too,” Kageyama murmured, still looking away.

Things were quiet between them for a beat. Then two. Then three—

 _“God,_ just throw the ball so I can set to you,” Kageyama grumbled, chucking the volleyball at Shouyou’s chest and stomping away. Shouyou pointedly did _not_ look at his ass.

That was how practice started, and Jesus, the rest of practice wasn’t much better. Shouyou _sucked._ He kept swatting at air each time he leapt to hit one of his sets. His mind kept wandering, all distracted and frazzled. He couldn’t help it. Every time Kageyama moved, his legs pulled the spandex taut in different ways, and Shouyou could _not_ stop staring.

And even though Shouyou knew he was off his game, he could also tell Kageyama was, too. He fumbled a few sets, dropping the ball accidentally, and he even apologized once or twice. Kageyama _apologized._ Shouyou didn’t mind, though. Hell, he hardly _noticed_ his mistakes. His body was barely keeping it together, only just managing to keep his erection at chub and not full-blown.

Shit, okay, he needed to focus on other things. Non-Kageyama things. It was still overcast outside. The air smelled of grass and ozone. That was weird. Actually, now that he bothered to notice his surroundings, he could see a storm was coming. It was more than overcast now, the clouds in the sky above were heavy and dark all the way to the horizon, and the distinct lack of birds chirping was suddenly deafening. The air felt electric, prickling at his skin, and it only added to the tension coiling hot in Shouyou’s body, worsening every time he felt Kageyama’s eyes on him.

It took several seconds for Shouyou to realize that the ball hadn’t come his way again. Confused and somewhat dazed, looked up at Kageyama, only to find him staring at Shouyou, his same expression reflected right back.

The watched each other in some half-aware state. Kageyama looked as dazed as Shouyou felt, only there was something more there, too. Something heavy.

He looked… hungry.

That realization made Shouyou’s stomach swoop through the concrete below him. Shouyou’s eyes dropped to the ball in Kageyama’s hands, and he was gripping it so hard his fingers left indentations in the leather. Shouyou’s lips moved, but no sound came out. He blinked, licked his lips, and tried again. “It’s gonna rain.” His voice was scratchy.

Kageyama, chest heaving from their lame practice, blinked several times, eyebrows knitting together. He looked up at the sky, just as Shouyou felt the first drops of rain on his arms.

“We should… go,” Kageyama said, words stunted and awkward, his voice deeper than usual. “To my house.”

In some weird horny stupor, Shouyou nodded dumbly, turning around to pick up his bike, following Kageyama out of the park.

They walked in silence. Nary a thought in Shouyou’s brain. All he could feel was this static humming right under his skin, tingling his over-sensitive body, the sensation interrupted briefly by the pricks of cold water as it dropped on his skin from above.

Shouyou was offered a brief reprieve from the buzzing in his mind when Kageyama blurted out, seemingly from nowhere, “My parents aren’t home right now.”

Shouyou didn’t quite know what to do with this information, and in his current state, he really couldn’t process much beyond basic conversation. He responded with, “Oh. Okay.”

And then the silence was back.

The rain was picking up, but Kageyama’s house was only minutes away by foot, and they were able to make it back without getting drenched.

Shouyou was so distracted though, he wasn’t sure he’d even notice if they got soaked.

In the foyer of his empty house, Kageyama toed off his shoes. He dropped the ball on top of them.

“I’m going… to change,” he muttered, slow and muddled. Though Kageyama wasn’t looking at him, Shouyou nodded anyway, and started slowly wedging his own shoes off one at a time, stumbling a little, as Kageyama trudged up his stairs.

Jesus, Shouyou needed to get it together. He spent approximately two minutes just standing there, breathing deeply, willing his body to chill the fuck out. And once he was adequately oxygenated and absolutely still turned on, he followed Kageyama up the stairs and into his room.

Where Shouyou found Kageyama padding around in nothing _but_ his leggings.

Instead of changing, like he’d promised, Kageyama had simply removed his socks and t-shirt. The waistband, wide and snug, looked like it was painted on Kageyama’s hips. He had his back to Shouyou, but the choking noise that cracked from the depths of his throat made Kageyama turn around.

“You—” Shouyou started, not even knowing what he wanted to say. “I’m.” Fuck. Shouyou’s getting hard. He’s been half-hard since he fucking _got_ to the park, but this was pushing him over the edge, and he pulled his t-shirt down over the front of his _extremely revealing_ leggings. Sluggishly, Kageyama’s eyes dropped, following the movement with a slow sort of hypnosis.

Kageyama’s lips were open, relaxed, and Shouyou could hear him breathing shallowly from across the small bedroom. Then, after a few beats of silence, Kageyama started to approach him.

“I should probably go home,” Shouyou suddenly burst out, and it made Kageyama stop. “My, um, mom said, uh—” Shouyou paused, his mind completely incapable of coming up with even a plausible-sounding excuse in the moment. Then, probably sensing bullshit, Kageyama continued toward him, slow and mindless, almost like he didn’t even realize he was moving forward, until he was suddenly right in front of Shouyou fuck shit fuck, “—uh, s-she needs help with—dinner?” Shouyou squeaked.

Kageyama loomed over him, head bent low to meet Shouyou’s eyes. They were not touching, but they were damn close, their abdomens mere centimeters away from each other. Kageyama blinked languidly with heavy eyelids, and then his eyes slid over to the digital clock on his nightstand.

“It’s…” his voice was even deeper than before, and his eyes slid back to Shouyou, “… not even noon.”

Fuck, his eyes were so blue. “She’s making…” Shouyou’s voice rasped out in a futile attempt at saving face. His mouth was dry. He licked his lips, “… curry.”

Several tense, tight beats passed, thumping Shouyou’s heart hard. He was pretty sure it was quiet in the room, but Shouyou couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. That nameless emotion was back in Kageyama’s gaze, shrouding his eyes with something heady and intense through the dazed expression he wore. It was then that Shouyou realized that emotion matched the peculiar one he had seen on Kageyama’s face for the last week.

And it was _then_ that it occurred to Shouyou that he actually knew what that emotion was. He just never had it directed at _him_ before.

_Desire._

Wordlessly, Kageyama reached above Shouyou and pushed the door shut behind him with a soft snap.

“I want,” Kageyama started, voice husky and halted, and that was all he could get out before Shouyou’s hands looped around his neck and yanked him down at the same moment he pushed himself up on his toes, colliding their mouths brutally.

Kageyama grunted at the contact, but he responded immediately, hands snatching quick at his waist, mouth opening under Shouyou’s. The kiss was clumsy and ravenous—both clearly inexperienced, but what they lacked in skill they both made up for in enthusiasm. Adrenalin flooded Shouyou’s body, and he felt his hands trembling where they were gripping the back of Kageyama’s neck. They slid from his neck down to his shoulders, further down his trim body until they rested at the waistband of his _goddamned motherfucking leggings._ Shouyou whined pitifully into the kiss.

Kageyama was steadfast, a rock, and wasted no time, hands already slipping underneath his shirt to grip his hips tight like they were holding the volleyball earlier. He could feel the extra fatty flesh at his waist filling Kageyama’s palms where they squeezed, and Kageyama hummed a little moan into the kiss at the sensation.

“More,” Shouyou breathed during a brief separation, and Kageyama drove their lips back together, nodding eagerly. He started to walk them backwards, hauling Shouyou with him until they were standing in front of his bed. Thunder snapped outside.

Shouyou was so fucking keyed up he couldn’t think straight. God, he just _wanted._ He wanted _Kageyama,_ wanted to touch, to be touched, to—

“Can I—” Shouyou started to ask against his mouth, hands boldly picking at the spandex, tight on Kageyama’s hips. In lieu of response, Kageyama hooked his thumbs into the waistband and shoved the spandex down, underwear and all. His cock, not quite hard yet, _flopped_ out overtop the waistband, meaty and thick.

 _“Oh,”_ Shouyou breathed, fingers immediately wrapping delicately around the substantial length. “You’re so—” His heart seized suddenly with anxiety, and his wide eyes flicked up to Kageyama’s, asking belatedly, “Can I touch?”

“God, _yes,_ dumbass,” he growled low, hand already wrapping around Shouyou’s retreating wrist to guide his palm back to his dick.

Without thinking, Shouyou breathed reverently, “You’re so _big,_ Kageyama.” The setter blushed as he watched Shouyou handle him, both of them fascinated with what was happening. The weight of Kageyama’s cock was satisfying in his hand, not even all the way hard yet. He was getting there fast, though. Shouyou could feel it swelling between his fingers. It felt intimate, to bear witness to this.

Shouyou’s own dick was currently straining at his leggings, stretching the material thin—he could already feel wetness soaking the spandex. He reached down with his other hand to palm himself, offering himself some much-needed relief. Shouyou bit back a moan and knocked his forehead to Kageyama’s shoulder, watching with rapt attention as the setter’s cock got fatter and pink.

 _“Bwah,”_ Shouyou breathed, mesmerized by its size, larger than his own. “Has your dick always been this big?”

“God,” Kageyama choked from above him. Shouyou drew back to see Kageyama’s flushed face, his lip drawn between his teeth, eyes blown wide and dark with arousal. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Things like what?” Shouyou asked with misplaced innocence.

Instead of answering, Kageyama released his hip at last, gripping his jaw with one hand in a savage kiss, crushing their mouths together. Shouyou startled, released himself and grabbed at Kageyama’s bicep, giving back as good as he’s being given, sucking Kageyama’s tongue into his mouth. The setter groaned responsively into the kiss, cock twitching heavily in Shouyou’s hand, the first drips of precum sliding down his knuckles.

Then, Kageyama released him, using the grip he had on his jaw to push Shouyou’s face away from his own just to breathe. Kageyama sat down on his bed, eyes trailing attentively up and down Shouyou’s body from this new angle, like he was trying to commit it to memory. The attention made Shouyou squirm, horny and self-conscious, and he had to place his hands on Kageyama’s shoulders, needing something to hold on to, needing something to ground him.

As Kageyama’s eyes dragged over his midsection for the third time, his hands were drawn there too, latching onto that extra fat on his hips again, squeezing appreciatively, and then they dropped to his thighs, kneading handfuls of spandex-clad flesh.

 _“God,”_ the setter choked again, working his palms and fingers. Shouyou’s eyes squeezed shut at the sensation, his cock throbbing in his leggings. Fuck, he was so hard. “I love your body, Shouyou.”

Shouyou opened his eyes, blinking as he focused on Kageyama’s face. He seemed maybe embarrassed by the admission, color high in his cheeks, but then he barreled forward and pinched at the fabric on Shouyou’s thigh. “Can I take them off?”

Shouyou nodded, so fast his head almost came off, and whipped his shirt off in an instant. Kageyama hooked his fingers into the waistband of Shouyou’s leggings and started slowly peeling them off, which was immediately followed by a sharp intake of breath.

 _“Oh,”_ Kageyama breathed as he revealed Shouyou’s body, his excited, red cock bobbing forward. “You...” he started, swallowed, and started again, “you don’t wear underwear with these?”

“Um… no?” God, did that make him a pervert? Do people wear underwear with leggings normally? He wasn’t aware of _spandex etiquette._

Kageyama seemed to have trouble with this, staring shamelessly at his body, taking his sweet-ass time to respond. Impatiently, Shouyou kicked his leggings off the rest of the way while Kageyama rebooted or something. Then when Shouyou was completely nude—oh god he’s _completely_ nude he’s never been this naked before in front of anyone—Kageyama said, “… You haven’t worn underwear with these this _whole time?”_

Shouyou balked at the sound of his voice, tone shocked and disbelieving, and it made Shouyou recoil a little, feeling too exposed. He wished he hadn’t _just_ removed all of his clothes, what the hell was he thinking? But Kageyama seemed to come back to himself then, sensing Shouyou’s embarrassment, and grabbed greedily at his hips, pulling the spiker’s body onto his lap, breathing, “No no no no come back here,” on his exhale, hushing Shouyou’s squeak of surprise with another messy kiss.

When they separated, Kageyama rested his head on Shouyou’s shoulder, breathing deeply for a few seconds before hoisting the smaller boy further onto his lap. Shouyou was properly straddling Kageyama now, their cocks so painfully close to each other, not touching by the barest millimeters. Shouyou could feel the heat of the massive thing against his own. Kageyama was panting into the space between their abdomens.

To say Shouyou felt overwhelmed would be an understatement. His skin was oversensitive, tingling where Kageyama’s hands rested on his thighs. He ran his hand through Kageyama’s hair and then made two fists, gripping the strands near the roots, and the setter grunted at the sensation, squeezing his thighs briefly. It occurred to Shouyou that Kageyama was still wearing his leggings, the sensation of them foreign against his bare ass, Kageyama’s pink cock and swollen balls bulging out from overtop his waistband.

“Off,” Shouyou demanded, releasing Kageyama’s hair to pull at the fabric on his hip. Kageyama complied, lifting Shouyou just enough to shove them down to his knees—not actually taking them off, but it was good enough—and instantly replacing his hands on Shouyou’s legs, gliding them upwards and curving around to his ass.

“Fuck,” he sighed, and Shouyou hummed in response, a shiver shooting through Shouyou’s body. “I’m gonna—“

And instead of finishing his sentence, Kageyama acted. He tugged Shouyou forward by his grip on his ass, and their dicks collided hotly, slipping past each other. Shouyou’s whole body jerked in response, so sensitive and _so_ turned on.

“Nnnmmm—yessss,” Shouyou hissed at the sensation, “again.”

Kageyama was ahead of him, already hitching Shouyou’s hips forward again, and then again, and again, setting a rhythm made so satisfying by Kageyama’s conditioning and endurance. The setter was also raising his own hips, rutting into the crease where Shouyou’s thigh met his hip, smearing precum onto his skin, panting into his neck.

Shouyou could do little else other than hold on to Kageyama’s broad shoulders, relinquishing control, allowing him to use his body as he pleased. The pleasure was unreal, and Shouyou was more than happy to give himself up to the taller boy. Both of them being inexperienced as they were, all they knew to do was to act on base instinct, hips fucking forward automatically, both of them mindlessly chasing the bodily pleasure they’ve found in each other.

“I thought about this,” Kageyama panted suddenly into Shouyou’s ear. “All—week. You—and your… _fucking_ leggings.” His eyes were squeezed shut, cheeks pink from either the confession or exertion or arousal. Probably a combination of the three. Shouyou squeaked in response, his heart caught in his throat, feeling _so much._ Too much. He could feel his orgasm start its approach, welling inside his core. Not knowing what else to do, he slapped his hands to Kageyama’s cheeks and mashed their lips together. Kageyama groaned hotly into his mouth.

“I wanna—“ Kageyama spoke against his lips, reaching down between them to hold their cocks together with his gigantic fucking hands, and Shouyou moaned right in Kageyama’s face, a fresh blurt of precum dripping over their cocks. The spiker dropped his head to Kageyama’s shoulder, watching what it was the setter wanted to do.

Carefully, he aligned their dicks, gripping them tight in a steady grasp with one hand, the several-inch size difference between them making Shouyou blush. Then, he coiled his other hand around their tips, starting with slow, gliding strokes before picking up speed, jacking them off together.

Fuck, it was so good. Their dicks were so wet. Shouyou was dribbling a constant stream of precum over the both of them, and it was slicking Kageyama’s movements beautifully. The wet clicking sound was loud in the room, easily heard over their heavy breathing. Like this, the pleasure was constant and steady and relentless and Shouyou was not going to be able to hold on much longer.

And judging by how tense Kageyama’s body was beneath his, neither was he.

“Kag—yama,” he whimpered into the setter’s neck, that wave building inside of him. “I’m—I’m—you’re gonna make me—“

 _“Fuck,”_ Kageyama growled suddenly, hand speeding up, the squelching sound matching his pace. “Don’t talk, dumbass—I’m not—gonna last—“

Shouyou paid him no mind, babbling his next words, voice pinched tight. “You—‘yama, you’re gonna make me come, I’m—gonna come—so hard—“

His words lit a blaze in the setter’s neck that probably extended to his face too, and, _“Ah—“_ was all Kageyama could get out before he started to come, thick wetness coating Shouyou’s cock in heavy bursts. The sensation of that warmth glazing his dick catapulted him into his own orgasm, streams spurting from the tip of his cock as he moaned loudly into the space between their bodies. Kageyama milked them together, emptying their balls, making a complete mess of their abdomens, and as his hand slowly came to a stop, Shouyou opened his eyes to inspect the mess they made.

There was so much come. Shouyou could feel it start to roll off his thigh and curve underneath it, making the skin where their bodies met slippery and warm. Kageyama’s hands were shiny and wet. Shouyou sat there, mind nothing but snow, and allowed his breathing to slow. Lethargically, Shouyou picked himself up from Kageyama’s neck to finally get a good look at the setter’s face.

If Shouyou had to come up with one word for Kageyama right now, it would be _beautiful._ Though he would never admit it, obviously. He had these gorgeous spots of color high on his cheekbones, flushing his face pink, splotchy and worn. His pupils were blown wide, dilated and high, and his hair was all fucked up and pushed off his forehead, probably from Shouyou gripping it earlier. Not bad-fucked up though, no not at all. Good-fucked up. Endearing-fucked up.

_Beautiful._

He was watching Shouyou, a smile in his eyes, crinkling a little at the edges as they ticked over his features. His expression was so open and unguarded, affection warming his gaze.

Shouyou blinked, coming back to himself. The room was dark—too dark, and after a quick glance around, he realized the storm made the power go out while they were… busy. He looked back down at their softening dicks.

“Jesus.”

The word seemed to break Kageyama from his thoughts, and he breathed a laugh through his nose. After a beat or two of silence, Kageyama tapped his thigh. “Alright, get up. I need to wash my hands.”

Kageyama washed his hands, and they wiped themselves down with wet cloths to clean what they could. Kageyama lent Shouyou some old practice shorts— _“My clothes are fine though, dummy-yama.” “If you put those on you’ll never leave my room, please wear something else”—_ and Kageyama dressed in a fresh set of house clothes. He made them a quick lunch consisting of dinner leftovers, and they sat in a nest of blankets to watch the rain together.

Shouyou felt so content—lazy and warm in a post-orgasm glow, wrapped in a blanket with his setter at his side. Lightning lit up the clouds outside, accompanied by low, rumbling thunder, and rain pelted the windows soothingly. They ate in silence, enjoying the serenity of the empty house, and after their meals were finished and bowls were set aside, Shouyou knocked his shoulder into Kageyama’s.

“So… when did you get leggings?”

A smile threatened to break through on Kageyama’s face. He fought it down. “… Yesterday.”

Shouyou giggled into his hand.

“Shut up, dumbass,” Kageyama responded without malice. “My parents left Friday, and I was alone all day Saturday—“

“So you bought yourself some spandex.”

Kageyama scowled. “At least they aren’t my sister’s.”

Shouyou’s jaw dropped in mock-offense. “How dare you. Leggings know no gender, _yamayama.”_

“Well, at least mine have room for, like, a dick,” Kageyama reminded him.

Warmth lit up Shouyou’s cheeks. “Yeah, well… you probably need the extra room.”

Kageyama snorted, a matching blush crawling up his neck. “It’s not that big.”

The spiker rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh yeah, and my hair isn’t that bright.”

“You are... so stupid,” the setter sighed affectionately, falling against Shouyou’s shoulder, and then they fell into silence again.

After a few minutes of watching the rain, Kageyama spoke up, voice soft, eyes forward. “I am so glad I didn’t know you weren’t wearing underwear this week.”

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in, and Shouyou sputtered at the confession, dislodging the setter from his shoulder. “What?!” He squeaked.

Kageyama rubbed a hand down his face, laughing weakly. “I don’t think I would have made it.”

“You—“ Shouyou stopped, searching for words. “—what? What does _that_ mean?”

Kageyama watched him from the very corner of his eye, but he stayed facing the window. “I didn’t even know I _liked_ you before this week. I don’t think I could have handled…” he waved a hand in the air, “…that amount of… _you.”_

And in that moment, all of the feelings Shouyou felt for Kageyama fell seamlessly into place. The anger, the giddiness, the teasing, the _fascination with his fingers._ It made so much sense, in hindsight. Shouyou’s been carrying a torch for Kageyama, probably since they _met,_ and he didn’t even fucking realize it.

Apparently, Kageyama felt a similar way.

Shouyou felt about ready to burst, emotions welling up inside of him. “You like me?”

Now it was the setter’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, dumbass, that’s what I said.” Then he hesitated. “Oh, unless, uh—“ apprehension took hold of Kageyama’s features now, “—you don’t… feel the same way…?”

Kageyama could hardly finish the sentence before Shouyou violently closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Kageyama’s neck in a tight hug, trying to convey through his embrace exactly how he felt about the setter. “God, we are so dumb,” he mumbled into Kageyama’s shoulder.

Kageyama returned the hug happily, and there they sat, rocking back and forth a little in their embrace, blissfully unbothered by the early afternoon storm thundering outside.

The following week, they broke the news to the team. Their reception was welcome— _“Congrats, you guys!”_ from Suga, and, _“It’s about time!”_ from Tanaka, and _“I thought you were gonna give Kageyama a brain aneurysm,”_ from Tsukishima.

And the following weekend, after sheepishly returning the leggings to his sister, Shouyou went out with his new boyfriend and bought some spandex of his own. And later that day, several orgasms later, Kageyama made Shouyou promise that, fine, he could wear leggings to practice, but please _god_ wear shorts over them from now on.

And yeah, Shouyou could live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed your read!! follow me on [tumblr](https://benzaaldehyde.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/benzaaldehyde) if you want to be part of a very small, elite club of very cool people who follow me. 
> 
> thank you for reading!! ❤️


End file.
